Chapter 17 #2
“Fuck, Ells,” he says, slipping his hand beneath the final layer that separates us. He glides his finger through my arousal, and I moan. It’s been far too long since he’s touched me.
Tossing the blanket off my shoulders, I climb off his lap, which earns me a grunt of protest. “I need you naked, James, like five minutes ago.”
He stands, adjusts his hard length, then bends and tosses me over his shoulder. “What my girl wants, my girl gets.” He smacks me on the ass, and I give it right back to him, as my body bounces against his during our trek up the stairs to my room.
“What was wrong with the couch?” I ask when he lowers me to the bed. He sucks a hard nipple into his mouth, and I cry out. The move sends waves of desire through me. I don’t ever remember nipple play feeling this good. “More,” I demand, arching my back, offering my tits to him for the taking.
“Yes, ma’am,” he rumbles, before diving back in for another taste.
All too soon, his mouth and his weight leave me. Lifting onto my elbows, I watch as he strips out of his shorts and boxer briefs and grips his cock. The veins in his forearms make themselves known as he grips his length and tugs.
I lick my lips, and he grins. “What are you thinking about, Ells baby?” he asks, smirking.
He knows exactly what I’m thinking about. “Just wondering if you taste the same on my tongue,” I say, knowing it will drive him wild, and the groan he rewards me with tells me I was right.
He drops his cock and steps toward the bed. “We need to get rid of these.” He reaches for the hem of my shorts, and I lift my hips, allowing him to pull them away. He takes my shorts and panties in one go and drops them to the floor.
His eyes are blazing with desire as he crawls over me. He braces himself on the bed while he stares down at me. “You’re beautiful.”
I smile because “You make me feel beautiful.”
Dropping his head, he pecks my lips with a kiss before shifting to lie next to me.
He moves his hands behind his head and watches me intently.
I allow my eyes to roam over the hard planes of his body.
That’s when I see it—a tattoo on his ribs.
I move closer to get a better look, and tears instantly spring to my eyes.
I don’t know how I didn’t notice this before. I mean, I saw he had ink, but my mind was elsewhere, and every other time we’ve been together, even at the Memorial Day cookout, he kept his shirt on. He changed out of his wet shirt, but I wasn’t with him when he did it.
How could I miss this?
“When?” I ask, my throat thick from the emotions building up inside me. My fingers quiver as I gently trace over the vibrant colors that I only caught a glimpse of before, and didn’t know what those colors meant.
Now, I do.
“I came back a second time that I’ve never told anyone about,” he confesses, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“When?” I manage to ask. My throat feels thick, clogged with emotions rising too quickly to contain.
My fingers tremble as I trace the lines of the tattoo again, slower this time, letting the colors of each petal bleed into meaning.
When I saw them before, they were just shapes, just fragments of color I didn’t understand.
Now, they’re an open doorway, leading to insight I didn’t know existed—a truth I hadn’t braced for.
I don’t need to hear him tell me that the E weaved into my favorite flower, etched permanently onto his skin, is for me.
“Your parents’ funeral.”
My world tilts.
My stomach drops.
My heart stutters to one violent screeching halt, before it lurches back to life, pounding so hard it feels like my chest might split open from the force.
So many emotions wash over me all at once.
My body heats, then cools, and for a moment, I can’t tell if I’m sitting or falling.
All I can feel is the weight of his words settling into a place I didn’t know was still fragile.
“You were there?” I ask, my voice pained as I speak over the golf-ball-sized lump in the back of my throat.
“I was.” Reaching out, he takes my hand in his.
“I needed to be there. I didn’t know what I was getting into.
I didn’t know if you would need me, but the thought of not being there if you did, gutted me.
I asked for personal emergency leave, which was granted, and hopped on a flight.
My flight was delayed, so I got there late and stood back.
I watched as my best friends, yours, comforted you and your sisters.
I saw my mom, my brother, and Macie, and everyone seemed to have someone.
None of you needed me. I stayed back and slipped out before the services were over. ”
“Copeland,” I whisper through my tears.
“I didn’t know how to deal. I was missing you with a fierceness I couldn’t put into words.
I didn’t want to talk to my family. I was worried I’d be cruel because the pain was so intense.
Instead, I got back into my rental and just drove.
I found myself in a little town about thirty minutes outside of Nashville called Ashby.
There was a new tattoo shop just on the edge of town, Everlasting Ink.
They worked me in, and this was the result. ”
I open my mouth to speak, but instead of words, a sob slips free.
Copeland pulls me down onto his bare chest and wraps his arms around me.
I sob uncontrollably. I cry for my parents, for the time we lost, and I cry for the man who’s holding me together.
He came back for me twice and thought I didn’t need him.
I should have tried to reach him. I should have demanded he talk to me and give me answers back then.
I don’t know how long I cry, but Copeland’s hold on me never weakens. When I finally feel like I can speak, I lift my head, and he wipes my tears with his thumbs. There’s so much emotion swirling in their depths that it causes another round of pain to quake inside my chest.
“I love you,” he whispers. “After that day, it got a little easier, as if I was always carrying a piece of you with me. Not just your memory or the hold you had on my heart, but a piece of you.”
I’ve lost my ability to form words because of the lump blocking my throat. Instead, I move closer and kiss him. I kiss him with everything I have inside me as I crawl up his body. We’re aligned skin to skin, front to front, with nothing but love between us.
I love this man with an intensity that shakes the foundation of who I am, because I’m not me without him.